


murmur

by reveries_passions



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blink and you'll miss it, Deaf Harry, Deaf Louis, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oh also, One Shot, Smut, So basically, Sweet Creature, cool niall, i suck at tagging but, its cute ok just read it, mentally unstable but equally cool liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reveries_passions/pseuds/reveries_passions
Summary: "The sun warmed their skin, dried any and all remnants of Louis' tears, made Harry's curly hair glow. The sounds of the city below seemed to disappear; it was just them, overlooking everything, the only two people in the world who understood each other."in which louis is a little bit empty, harry is a little bit new to all this, and, coincidentally, they're both just about as deaf as two lonely teenagers can be.





	murmur

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: text in italic is dialogue, text in bold italic is electronic:)

When Harry was nine, he almost missed dinner.

He got home from school on the seventeenth of March, 2003. The weather had been dreary all week, and his teachers feared that the thick cloudy sky would extend into the weekend, and maybe even the Monday after. And, as Ms. Thomas had said, that would interrupt her plans to attend her favorite restaurant with her husband and parents-in-law-- _would that really be such a bad thing_? Ms. Catherine had stated pointedly--but the fact was that Harry could not afford to miss another recess when he had been benched throughout the whole beginning of the week. Ed and Nick had been pestering him to play 'knights' with them for the entirety of March, when the weather was finally pleasant enough to actually use the sticks that littered their small playground; not the damp twigs that had existed all winter. And, after all, he was nine now, which meant he was far too old to be sitting on the bench during playtime. Goodness, he was practically wasting away, and yet Ms. Thomas the old tool had to have ruined everything.

And so when Harry got home, he made a mental note to interrogate his mum on whether or not Ms. Thomas was actually qualified to teach his class.

 _What a despicable woman_ , Harry thought to himself. He was about to give his parents a piece of his mind. But when he arrived home, his mother already had a bubble and squeak in the oven and, weeeelll, he was quite famished (year three was demanding work, was it not?) so he decided he would put off his audit of Ms. Thomas until a night they had leftovers. That, he thought, would have to do.

So he gave his mum a kiss on the cheek, and she thanked him very much for the lovely greeting, and told him to go upstairs and play until the meal was ready and she would call him down. He was, frankly, quite relieved. What would he do without her? He would absolutely starve to death. Thank god for mum.

Gemma got home not long after, but she didn't have much interest in playing toy soldiers with him (Gemma was in year six, so she was much older than he was and she even had a crush on a boy named Jamie--how scandalous was that?) so he declared war (and won) all by himself. Gemma, he thought, was missing out on a spectacular time.

The smell of supper was wafting up the stairs, and it had to be ready soon. He saw his sister exit her room across the hallway--she had changed and was wearing jeans with sparkles on them and a top with very long and dangly sleeves. Maybe she had also applied some eyeshadow; Harry thought he saw some bright blue in a place it shouldn't have been. His older sister was such a rebel.

Harry must've gotten so caught up in the war that was currently occurring between his little soldiers he didn't hear his mother call him down for supper. You couldn't really blame him; war was quite a riveting activity. But it was only when Gemma came and leaned against the doorway of his little room when he finally realized the time. It was half-past six.

"Harry," his sister said, rolling her eyes in disaffected exasperation. "Didn't you hear mum? Supper's ready."

And so Harry apologized, and while he was slightly confused at his lack of attention, he went downstairs and ate three full servings of bubble and squeak.

That night, Harry slept very well.

 

•

 

When Harry was eleven, a doctor came to his class.

Her name was Dr. Taylor, and she was an otaryn--...and otonyl--...she was a _something_ doctor who specialized in children's hearing. She was here, she explained rather condescendingly, a bit too much so for Harry's taste, that they would be doing a few fun activities to test the pupils' hearing. They would get to wear big, chunky headphones, and all they would have to do was follow the instructions. Piece of cake. Easy as pie. At least, that was what Harry figured.

Ed and Nick went before him; they were very excited to wear the big, chunky headphones, and in the line to the desk in front of Dr. Taylor, they were bursting to the brim with giddy excitement.

"Oh, wow, look at that, Harry!" they chimed, and Harry agreed cheerfully, and then they had their turn. They both gave Harry a thumbs up as they disembarked back to the rug, to sit criss-crossed until everyone was finished--they would be getting a 'congratulatory snack' and they weren't missing this opportunity by misbehaving--so Harry was eager to get through this as fast as possible.

He sat down in front of Dr. Taylor politely, and she gave him an encouraging smile as he pulled on the chunky headphones. This would be easy. Harry was a pro at following directions.

Dr. Taylor slid a laminated sheet of paper in front of him, and gave him a friendly nod. This woman was a bit irritating. He would be glad to be done with this.

"Find the dog," a nice voice through the headphones spoke calmly, and so with a rather cocky scoff, Harry held his finger to the picture of a little cartoon dog in the upper left corner of the laminated paper. Wow. And they expected him to fail. (They didn't, really, but Harry needed some way to boost his motivation).

"Find the chicken."

Harry did so with utter ease and panache. Simple, really. He was eleven. He knew what a bloody chicken was.

"Find the --orse."

Hmm. These chunky headphones must've been a bit sketchy; they were cutting out, and they were getting a bit quiet. He held his finger to the horse and resisted an eye roll. What was he, seven?

"--the...at."

They hadn't even bothered to invest in working headphones, he thought in annoyance. He touched the cat after a short pause.

"...th--..."

The nice voice stopped.

Harry glanced expectantly at the woman, before gingerly removing the headpiece from over his ears. Harry was not rude, not by any means; his mother had taught him to treat everyone with respect, but this was a bit infuriating. This woman was supposed to be a doctor.

Dr. Taylor looked a bit confused. "What's the matter, Harry?"

"It stopped," he replied simply. Dr. Taylor looked at him for a long, curious moment before nodding once, jotting down something on a piece of paper underneath her hand, nodding again, and gesturing for the next child to step forward.

When Harry sat down in between Ed and Nick, they asked him how it went, rather enthusiastically.

"I think the headphones were broken." Harry shrugged halfheartedly and Ed and Nick looked confused as well, just like Dr. Taylor had.

"Really? They worked fine for us." 

 

•

 

A week later, Harry's mum received a letter in the mail.

After reading it twice over, she called Harry downstairs and sat him down and told him what she had read.

She was to take her son, Harry Edward Styles, to pediatric otolaryngologist Shirley Taylor for a auditory assessment. The letter said that it was just a precaution. It would be very similar to the activity they did at school. And though she didn't have much reason to worry, she did anyway, because mothers worried. It was all rational. And so was the auditory assessment. Rational. It made sense. Harry brushed off any worries easily.

The clinic was fun; they had toys and apple juice. After a ten minute wait, Harry was called in by the secretary. Now he was a bit nervous. But it was, once again, all rational.

The auditory assessment, as it turned out, was almost exactly the same as the activity at school. Dr. Taylor seemed very happy to see him (she told him when they were done he would get a sticker and a lollipop, which was very pleasing), and so he put on another pair of chunky headphones and positioned himself comfortably in front of the laminated sheet and waited for the nice voice to instruct him.

Hopefully this pair would work better than the last.

His mum watched intently as the nice voice told him to, first, find the cow, which he did very easily. Next came the dog; again, he accomplished this simple task with very few to no altercations. The headphones were quite spiffy, and seemed to be working just fine, until he got to the rabbit, and the voice started crackling, fading, becoming patchy and loud and then quiet, near silent, and _bloody hell_ , was it that difficult to invest in some headphones that actually worked?

Harry's hand remained still in his lap.

Dr. Taylor took the headphones off for him this time.

"Harry, I want to try a few things," she said calmly. "Do me a favor and cover up your right ear with your hand?" Harry did so, but he was a bit lost as to why she seemed to think the problem was with him and not the chunky headphones.

"Now point at the dog for me, please," she continued, her voice muffled. Alright. So they were continuing the auditory assessment manually. That was fine too.

Harry pressed his fingertip to the little brown dog.

"Good. Now would you mind covering up your other ear instead?"

Harry nodded, quite conscious of his mother's concerned stare burning into the side of his face.

"Now, Ha--...ease find th--...--icken."

Harry's head felt a bit weird and now he was very bewildered but he touched the chicken hesitantly. Dr. Taylor took quick note of the look on his face.

"Harry, how we--...ear me?"

Harry took his hand off his left ear.

"What?"

By the time Harry and his mum got home, he had already finished his lollipop.

 

•

 

Mum took him to the clinic again the week after.

"Why?" he had asked.

"Just a checkup," his mother replied, but her voice sounded a bit funny.

Harry sipped apple juice from a box while he waited for the nurse to call him. She was a kind young woman, and she had a big belly because she was about a month away from having a baby girl. Harry recommended the name Annie because he watched a film in school from America called Annie and the music was quite outstanding. The nurse ruffled his hair and thanked him very much.

The doctor he saw that day was called Dr. Davies and he was a fairly old man with blue eyes and a bright smile.

"Hello, Harry," he greeted cheerfully. "I've heard a lot about you from Dr. Taylor. She says you're having some issues with your hearing. Mind if I take a look?"

Harry nodded politely, even though he was still confused. His hearing was okay. He could hear his teacher and friends pretty well at school. He could hear the piano in music class. So what could possibly be wrong with his hearing?

The ear-examiner thingy tickled as Dr. Davies peered inside. He hummed lightly to himself before pulling away.

"Looking spiffy," he observed playfully, and mum's smile was strained. "Harry, cover your right ear for me?"

Harry did so immediately.

"Hold up three fingers?" Dr. Davies requested kindly. Harry did so immediately.

"Good lad. Cover your other ear?" Harry lifted his right hand away from his right ear and pressed his palm over his left.

"Hol--...--ingers?"

Harry squinted at the old doctor.

"Huh?"

The doctor paused a moment before nodding knowingly. He gave Harry's mum a glance before sitting down in his revolving chair and tapping something into his computer.

"Harry, I've got a few questions for you. Mind if I ask them?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay."

"When you're at school, and your friends say something, can you hear them properly?"

Harry had just been thinking about this, so he already knew the answer.

"Yeah."

"What about your teachers?"

Harry nodded at where the doctor was still typing.

"Yeah."

"What about your mum? Can you hear your mum okay?"

Harry grinned crookedly at his mother's gaze.

"Yep."

The doctor smiled at Harry, gave him a sticker, and sent him back home.

 

•

 

Harry went to the clinic again two days after.

The same old doctor was there, smiling at Harry's mum and sitting in the revolving leather chair in front of his big computer.

"We've got another test for you Harry," he said, but now his tone was a bit more serious, a bit more solemn than their last get-together. He lifted something out of his desk draw; it looked like a metal fork but with only two stick-things.

"This is called a tuning fork," he said, and Harry smiled inside because he sort of knew that already. "I'm going to tap this, and you tell me if it sounds too quiet or if you can't hear it. Cover your right ear for me, son."

Harry did.

Dr. Davies tapped the tuning fork and it made a lovely ringing sound, and though it was a little bit quiet, Harry still heard it.

"I heard it," Harry confirmed formally. Dr. Davies smiled.

"Great. Cover your other ear for me."

This was becoming rather routine for Harry at this point. He felt like a pro.

And the strangest thing happened; he watched the doctor rap his fingernail against the tuning fork, and, though he expected it, not a single sound hit his ear.

Perhaps the thing was broken? Harry's eyes suggested this, but all the doctor did was blink at the young boy and place the tuning fork back in the drawer.

Harry removed his hand from over his ear. He felt kind of deflated, now. Well, maybe there was something wrong with him. That would explain the abundant visits to the clinic lately.

Dr. Davies stepped up to Harry's side, and instructed the boy to close his eyes, which he obliged to instantly, and while Harry wasn't looking, held his own wrinkled palm over the boy's left ear while lifting his other hand and snapping his fingers beside the 'problem' ear.

The doctor removed the hand covering his ear. "Did you hear that, Harry?"

"Hear what?" Harry replied, a bit incredulous. Either he was crazy, or this man was, and this man practically had one foot in the grave so Harry found the latter a bit more likely.

Dr. Davies plopped back down in his chair and pulled a piece of paper and a pen from his drawer, jotting down a few scribbled words.

"Ms. Cox, I'm going to give you a referral to Dr. Gordon. He's a pediatric ear specialist, and he'll be able to run a few more advanced tests on your boy here." Dr. Davies grinned at Harry. It took Harry a moment before remembering to return it.

"Alright," Harry's mum answered nervously, accepting the piece of paper and tucking it into her purse. "Er..." She hesitated before recollecting herself. "Do you think you could give me any information on...what to expect?"

"It would be unwise to attempt to diagnose anything so early on." The doctor spoke gravely.

Harry finished another lollipop before they'd even left the clinic. 

 

•

 

The week after, Harry went into a different clinic.

This one was full of people much older than him; people closer to his granddad's age. Harry felt a bit self-conscious and squeezed his mother's hand a bit tighter.

Dr. Gordon was younger than Dr. Davies, but much older than his mother. He didn't have lollipops or stickers. This place, Harry had concluded, was not one for children like him.

Dr. Gordon instructed Harry to do the exact same thing Drs. Davies and Taylor had done. Harry covered his ears, and whenever he covered his left ear, he couldn't really hear that well, and so after a quick look inside both of Harry's ears, Dr. Gordon led them both down the hallway to a dark room packed with big machinery and nurses and doctors. There was a bed, and then behind the bed was a giant tube that could swallow a human whole. Harry gulped.

"Get changed," the doctor told him, while placing a crisp and folded hospital gown on the bed. That was it. No smile or anything. Just 'get changed'. And so while his mum stood in a small room off to the side encased in glass, Harry tugged off his shirt and pulled on the baggy gown.

"Harry," Dr. Gordon's voice spoke through an intercom in the room. "Here's what you've got to do. Please lie down on the bed."

Harry did, but now he was frightened. He pinched the fabric of the hospital gown subconsciously.

"You're going to hear a loud whirring sound for a few minutes. Whatever you do, hold very still. Don't move. Your mum will be here the whole time, okay? So don't you worry about a thing."

Harry was silent. He was scared. Scared to blink. Scared to breathe. Scared to think, to hear. He held his breath, staring up at the ceiling and swallowing down tears as the bed moved back and the tube enveloped him. He wasn't aware this would be happening. Nobody had told him. And now he was scared.

Thanks, mum.

The whirring sound was loud. That was for certain; nothing could've exaggerated or prepared him for how loud it was. And it went on forever; the whirring sound rattled his brain, his chest, his heart, every last one of his veins. Harry kept his breath shallow, so to reduce movement. He didn't want to disobey the doctor.

The bed withdrew from the tube after what felt like eternity. Harry was fighting the urge to burst into tears at this point. He sat up when the nurse walked back into the room, and his mum followed, looking very sad. Harry gave her a big hug and sniffed into her top.

They waited for ages. Harry had put his t-shirt back on, and was chewing on his fingernails as they sat in the waiting room in silence. They were waiting for...well, Harry wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to go home and snuggle with Molly, regardless of how much she snarled at him in annoyance.

It must've been at least an hour until Dr. Gordon came back out. This time, he smiled at Harry and passed him a lollipop from his coat pocket before sitting down beside his mother.

"So," he said. "Here's the low-down. We have a diagnosis."

Harry's mum straightened up immediately, and all Harry could do was watch, watch as they discussed what to do with him.

Harry felt sick to his stomach.

"Let me ask you something, first," the doctor continued. "Do you have a history of deafness or hearing loss in the family?"

Harry's mum's fingers reached for her son's hand. She squeezed tightly while answering.

"His grandmother, she went deaf in her thirties. What are you saying, Dr. Gordon?"

Harry toyed with his coat zipper.

The doctor sighed. "When was the last time Harry was seriously ill?"

Harry's mum tensed even more. "He's...he's always been a healthy child? He's never been seriously ill."

The doctor nodded once. "It looks like at some point when Harry was younger he had Otitis Media. It's found in young children, and it takes the form of an ordinary ear infection, which is perfectly normal. But it turns out he's had fluid trapped behind his eardrum for a very long time, two years at least. The infection can appear to be very mild, like a cold or flu, but if it goes unnoticed for a long time it can have some very damaging long term affects. Harry's left ear is alright, but his right ear...well, he's pretty far into it now."

Anne squeezed Harry's hand even tighter, her knuckles turned white to match her son's pale complexion.

"What..." Harry's mum choked. "What does this mean?"

Harry clenched his eyes shut.

"He probably has about half a year until he becomes totally deaf."

Anne started to cry, but she wiped her tears away, regaining herself as the doctor explained different things and gave her pamphlet after pamphlet. Harry was quite tired.

"Harry," the doctor said. Harry looked up at him. "You're a very brave young man. Enjoy school and your friends, alright?" He directed his gaze at Harry's mother.

"As for treatments, there are a few things we can do to maintain his current hearing. We can drain the fluid from his ear, and in some cases provide a hearing aid. But I'm sorry, there's not much else we can do.

"In the meantime, we would suggest getting the whole family involved in ESL, English Sign Language. It's a very useful..."

The doctor droned on, and by the time they left the clinic, Anne's tears had dried and it was already dark out.

Harry never finished his lollipop.

 

•

 

 

Louis had been deaf his whole life.

He was lucky to be living in a place where there were so many people understanding of his disability, so many people who did everything in their ultimate power to make him feel loved and welcome.

Louis was constantly being told he was lucky.

And he hated it.

Massachusetts Eye and Ear, located right next to Mass General Hospital in Boston, was home to several people Louis spent almost every hour of every day with. He knew every secretary by name; he knew every doctor, every nook and cranny of this godforsaken place; he knew the hospital better than he knew his own home. (He was certainly here enough. There were always exams and evaluations and assessments to be run). Louis didn't mind living in Boston. The move from Donny had been an abrupt and strenuous one, but without it, he probably would've died. Doncaster didn't have doctors experienced or knowledgeable enough to treat him, but Boston did. And so his mum had moved him and his four sisters across the Atlantic with the intention on saving his life, and Louis should've been thankful, but all he felt was resentment.

Because, in truth, Louis had never been normal. Never would be normal. Ever since the heart murmur was detected when he was a literal fetus; ever since the aneurysm he experienced when he was only fresh out of the womb. Louis' brain worked fine. He was, once again, quite lucky that he hadn't been left crippled. He was just deaf, the only brain damage he was left with. But Louis was bitter; that was one of his lifelong traits. And so he wouldn't accept help. He refused to be treated like a baby simply because he couldn't hear. So while his mother insisted on speaking to his schoolteachers about having the students learn sign language, Louis would fake being deathly ill so that he wouldn't have to go to school. He realized, now, at nineteen, that was not the wisest decision, but he pulled these tricks before he was aware of the glory of 'hospital bills'.

Hospital bills. Another reason Louis hated everything about himself. Because his sisters wouldn't get the birthday presents they wanted; because even though she never told him, he knew his mum would lie awake at night wondering how she would feed her children the next day. Louis was problematic. Nobody would ever say it, but Louis knew they were thinking it.

Louis was, frankly, quite a nuisance for several other reasons as well. Louis had refused stubbornly when his mother told him he had to switch from his pediatric specialist Steve to an adult doctor. Sure, he was above eighteen, but he'd also known Steve since he was eight and Steve was the nicest and most understanding person he'd ever met. Steve wasn't condescending. Steve didn't treat Louis like a baby or a cripple. Steve spoke to Louis like he was speaking to a friend. Steve _understood._ And Louis was actually quite generally pleased with how his routine examinations went most days.

Well, except for this day.

The week had gone awful; that was the first thing. Louis had a cold. Boston winters were deathly cold; it had gotten to minus ten Fahrenheit, and Louis was so stubborn he hadn't worn his jacket even when his mother told him to. (Dan never wore a jacket. Why did he have to?). But mum had been right, much to Louis' dismay, and well. Louis would never admit that. He'd been confined to bed for the past four days. And he'd been out of his online school for deaf kids since he was sixteen--no friends, and no excuse to stay home because he was home already all the time. When he wasn't at home, he was at the hospital.

The second thing about this awful week was that his little sister had gotten her first boyfriend. She'd brought him home on Tuesday afternoon, but had neglected to tell this newfound mate that she had a deaf older brother. And so when Tommy was trailing by her side sheepishly, and Louis looked up from where he was sneezing into a tissue, everyone could practically smell the panic radiating off of Lottie.

The two had been entangled in a staring contest before they began signing at each other furiously; poor Tommy was watching between them desperately for at least three minutes before Louis stalked off to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto his bedsheets.

_Why the fuck didn't you tell him? You forgot?_

_Fuck off, Louis. Maybe I'm human too, alright? It's not exactly the best conversation starter_.

Louis was also the only one out of his family to have his own room. So basically, Louis' life sucked, when it didn't, when it did, when it didn't. Louis was a big mess.

And that was what he told Steve in the span of a minute as his doctor watched intently.

Steve gave Louis a long look. He was quite young to be a specialist. He wore backwards snapbacks and graphic t-shirts. That was the kind of person Steve was.

_Have you ever thought to talk to your mum about how you're feeling?_

Louis let out a deflated sigh, before lifting both his shoulders. It was a moment before he constructed a sentence in reply.

_Mum doesn't understand. Mum just worries about me._

Steve crossed his arms in thought, leaning against the wall behind him.

_Your mum loves you._

Louis rolled his eyes.

_I love my mum too. And my sisters. But they don't understand what this feels like. I don't want any of this. This life._

Steve smiled softly at his patient. _Louis, have you ever considered looking on the bright side a bit? Maybe getting a distraction? There was a pause. Girlfriend_? Then another pause while Steve remembered the conversation that had occurred when Louis was fifteen and confused. _Boyfriend_?

Louis just scowled.

 _You know I can't_ , was all he signed.

_Why not?_

Louis didn't have an answer. He just couldn't. That was that. Louis had known he liked boys for a long time, but he'd never even considered having a boyfriend, not for a moment. It wouldn't work if he had a non-deaf boyfriend, and having a deaf boyfriend would be impossible. There were no attractive or even somewhat nice deaf boys his age. Especially not in the pediatric ward of Mass Eye and Ear.

Louis stuck his hand into his pocket when his phone buzzed. Steve was required to write out a weekly report of Louis' wellbeing, so while he did this, Louis examined the text he'd just received from his mother.

**_Phoebe and Daisy aren't well, need to pick them up from school early. are you alright at the hospital for a while longer_ **

Louis was angry at the world. Nothing ever seemed to work in his favor, did it? Not to mention it was snowing, so if he wanted to take the T home by himself he would get drenched (he was only wearing a light jacket. It was January. Louis was stubborn).

Louis tapped out a vague reply.

**_ok i'll be in the waiting room_ **

He must've passed on his cold to the twins. That was the only explanation--unless they were faking it, which wouldn't surprise him. They'd learned from the best.

Louis slipped his phone back into his pocket. He nudged Steve's shoulder with his foot to get the man's attention.

 _Mind if I hang out here for a while_? he signed, a bit deflated. _Mum has to pick up the twins early._

Steve smiled again, this time looking a bit mischievous. Normally he would agree; Louis was usually his last patient before his lunch break, and Steve didn't mind Louis cutting into his lunch break, because he saw Louis as a friend as well. But this time was a bit different.

 _I would love to_ , Steve replied, _but I have a new patient._

Louis sank back into his chair, averting his gaze to the floor. Steve normally shared his packed salad with Louis. It was official; Louis had the worst luck of any person in the entire universe.

 _Who_? At this point, Louis was just trying to delay the amount of time he was alone before his mother got there. He really didn't have any intention on finding out who Steve's new patient was. For some odd reason, Louis sort of felt like he was being cheated on, even though he knew Steve was a doctor and saw other kids every day.

 _He's less than a month away from turning nineteen_. Steve's eyes glinted. _Otitis. Typical case._

Louis rolled his eyes again. Otitis was usually mild, and if it was severe, it took a long time to take its full toll; this kid, presumably, was not even fully deaf yet. Louis felt even more bitter, if that was possible.

 _What's his name_? Louis was a bit desperate now, desperate to stay with another human who understood him before being released in the the wilderness of downtown Boston; Louis hated being outside, hated watching people go about their normal lives on this normal day, chattering away with each other about the weather and that new episode of that tv show. Louis would never, ever understand these people. Never experience the joy of sound. This was why Louis not only hated his life; he hated himself. Hated his own imperfections. Hated his treatment. He didn't hate Steve; Steve was one of the few things he didn't hate.

 _I really shouldn't be telling you that_ , Steve signed back, and Louis could tell he was trying to look stern but he could only pull off playful. The corner of Louis' mouth twitched up.

Never mind, Louis replied, and now he knew it was time to go; Steve was checking the clock and typing on his computer and Louis didn't want to be more disruptive than he already was, so he stood up and nodded and waved at his doctor.

 _Wait for your mom_ , Steve signed. _Don't try and take the T in this weather_. Louis just pressed his lips together and nodded once more and then left.

Louis was about a centimeter away from colliding with a nurse named Rebecca on his way out. She was wearing her pink scrubs and had her light hair tied back into a loose ponytail and was holding a clipboard in her right hand. She smiled kindly at Louis and Louis forced one onto his face as well. She tucked her clipboard underneath her arm.

_Hi, Louis. How are you?_

Louis had a name sign the doctors knew him by. He'd had it since he was a baby; it was the first sign he'd been able to execute successfully. That was it; a hand in the shape of an 'L', touching the opposite shoulder right above the heart. He quite liked it, because it made him look and feel a bit more fierce than he really was. It looked a bit like half the sign for 'bear'. He supposed the sign held some irony. Louis wasn't ferocious of scary. Louis was 5'9", for heaven's sake. But somehow, it stuck. And it was far easier than spelling out his real name.

Louis withdrew his hand from his pocket. _Good, thanks, Rebecca_. Rebecca and Louis didn't know each other particularly well, so Louis didn't use her name sign. He didn't know her name sign, in fact. So he just spelled out 'Bec'.

Rebecca kept a smile plastered to her face and took a sidestep towards Steve's office door. Louis was so caught up in his own defeated state he almost didn't see the figure lurking behind Rebecca.

Almost.

And...

Oh.

If this was Steve's new patient, Louis was fucked.

He wasn't sure how he missed the young man. His conversation with Bec hadn't been riveting enough for the figure to go unnoticed. Perhaps Louis was too busy wallowing in self-pity to see this...this thing. This glorious freak of nature.

Firstly, he was practically made of legs. The black jeans he was wearing were like latex plastered to his skin; they were that tight. His legs were, like, as tall as Louis' body. And he was wearing these ridiculous shoes; these hot pink converse. Louis felt personally attacked.

Secondly, his jumper. It was oversized and wooly and Louis immediately wanted to snuggle up into him...it. Not him. It. The jumper. He wanted to snuggle up into the jumper. And it had, like, flowers and shit on it. Louis was well aware he looked like a creep right now. He didn't really care.

And then, Louis' eyes met the man's face, and well. He was young. He had such a big smile there were two dimples sinking into his cheeks--you could probably fit an ocean in there. And the eyes. Bright, comical, stupid green. He had a skin-colored hearing aid in his right ear. And then Louis realized this must be him. This must've been Steve's new patient.

And yes. Louis was rightly fucked.

Rebecca glanced between the two of them.

 _Where are my manners?_ she signed awkwardly. Louis, she directed her eyes at him. _This is Harry._

H-A-R-R-Y.

So that was the name that belonged to this majestic creature. This majestic, giraffe-like, deaf, majestic creature.

Rebecca spelled out his own name to 'Harry'. L-O-U-I-S. And the whole time, Harry the Majestic Deaf Giraffe did not take his eyes off Louis, and Louis did not take his eyes off Harry the Majestic Deaf Giraffe.

Louis was a bit fascinated with the hair as well. It hung in loose waves past his ears, dark chestnut brown and god Louis wanted to run his fingers through that and what the fuck was he thinking. Louis hadn't formed a single word. Louis was just gaping at this stupid giraffe thing.

And then...well. And then Harry lifted his right hand.

 _Hi_.

Louis swallowed, before doing the same.

_Hi._

Louis did a full body shake without meaning to. This giraffe thing was quite gorgeous. And if this was really Steve's new patient, Louis would be seeing a lot of him.

 _Are_...Louis paused. _Are you Steve's new patient_?

Harry's face read confusion, and then the realization seemed to strike him on the arse. And wow. That was a visual Louis really didn't need.

 _Yeah_! (Harry didn't sign an exclamation mark but his face said it all for him). _Are you a patient of his already?_

Louis gazed at the boy flatly. _I've been a patient of him for eleven years._

The boy's smile widened, if that was possible.

 _How cool! We just moved to Boston from Cheshire. My sister's going to Uni here and_...he paused. _It's strange. I've been deaf for a while but you can never really get used to not speaking._

There was no way in hell Louis was going to reveal his condition to this giraffe. They had communicated enough. Louis hadn't ever really gone this long without sulking in his room, alone.

 _Sorry. I have to go_ , Louis signed, even though he maybe didn't really want to.

Harry the Majestic Deaf Giraffe's face dropped and shoulders slumped.

_Okay. See you around?_

Louis wanted to die.

_I guess. Bye, Bec._

_Bye, Louis._

And Louis left, and it was almost an hour until his mum arrived.

He didn't see the Majestic Deaf Giraffe again until the next Friday.

 

•

 

Well. Harry was intrigued by this boy called Louis. Who was also called Bear.

The thing was, Harry had very few friends. Friends were a tricky thing for him; the amount of people who'd dropped him as a friend hugely outnumbered the amount of friends he currently had. Friend. Who was he kidding. He had one friend who he consistently saw and who was kind to him but who didn't treat him differently because of his disease. And he was grateful for Niall because he was _normal_ ; Niall wasn't another disabled kid, Niall was just a regular person who did regular things and that was really what made the two friends.

It was a balance. Niall made Harry a bit more normal, and Harry made Niall a bit more weird.

Of course, they'd only met recently. Niall'd been living in Boston for years now, while Harry had only been here for about a month, and yet they'd quickly become friends within a day of knowing each other. They worked at the same youth center in Southie, Niall as a soccer coach for six and seven year olds (Harry was still getting used to 'soccer' and not 'football') and himself as an interpreter for the children who were hard of hearing or had communication issues. Obviously he was deaf and couldn't hear the instructors, so they had someone to translate from English words to ASL, but he was really there to translate for the kids who didn't know sign language. It was an okay job, five dollars an hour for the teenage volunteers which meant by the end of the night he usually had around fifteen to twenty dollars, which consequently meant he had nearly enough to cover his next copay for the hearing therapy clinic.

Because the truth was, Harry was still getting used to being completely deaf. The hearing aid he'd gotten when he was thirteen helped, but barely. He could hear vague sounds of people's words but not the words themselves. He could hear the honk of a cars horn right up next to his head. But that was why he still needed a therapy clinic. The doctor had told him, when he was eleven, that he'd have six months, but it lasted quite a bit longer than that. Almost four years, to be precise. So it was when he was fifteen that the incident happened which he'd been preparing for for such a long time; he woke up, and his hearing was gone. Only the whispers of the day before were left in his memory.

So maybe he'd cried. Maybe he'd had a bit of a mental breakdown. But there were options. He had a hearing aid that made comprehending daily sounds easier. He'd known ESL for a while now. And he'd come to terms with his fate a long time ago. He probably wouldn't be able to hold a proper job ever, he'd probably die alone, but _boy_ had he proved his fifteen year old self wrong.

He had Niall, and he had the youth center.

He would be absolutely fine.

And Harry'd known he was gay for a long time as well. Which was the thing that took him back to Louis, Bear, the intriguing boy with the sparkling blue eyes and the kind of squinty mystery that made you wonder _what's going on inside that head of yours_?

Louis was handsome. Fact. And for some reason, Harry couldn't just let him go. Harry couldn't forget about him. Not even when his appointment had ended with the kind pediatrician Steve who was really a lovely man and who Harry could definitely get used to seeing weekly, and he was in Niall's car being driven by the boy himself to the place where they'd be spending the next at least three hours.

He couldn't really communicate with Niall when he was driving, even though he was fluent in ASL (he had no idea where the Irish born boy had picked it up) but he could think about things, and Niall seemed perfectly fine with it. Harry could sort of imagine what Niall's voice sounded like. Raspy and still full of an Irish accent he should've been rid of years ago. Sometimes Harry felt the rumble of the bass turned up on the radio, because he'd told Niall one time that he liked feeling the music even though he couldn't really hear it. He was a good friend.

Sometimes he would pretend he wasn't deaf when he was with Niall. Sometimes he would pretend he was totally normal, and that everything was just how it should've been. He knew his mother blamed herself. He knew she thought she could've done something more. But Harry believed in fate, and destiny, and if this was what was supposed to happen to him, then so be it.

He was happy. He really was.

Except...there was something missing. _Someone_ missing. He wanted someone to...kiss. And...he would've been perfectly content if Louis ended up being that person.

One problem; well, multiple problems, one of which was that Louis didn't seem like the type who was excited about human interaction. That and they'd only just met.

Well. If Louis was Steve's parent of eleven years, Harry would certainly be seeing a lot of him.

And thus was his newest project. 

 

•

 

 _I'm very sick of my hearing aid_ , Harry signed as he and Niall were trudging through the snow back to his shitty car.

 _Why?_ Niall replied.

_It gets in the way. It's annoying. It doesn't help much. It just gives me a sense of the things going on around me. It would be a lot better if I didn't have it._

Niall put a hand gently on his shoulder to get his attention. His face was one of concern. _Why_? he repeated. _Did something happen? Did someone say something?_

 _No_ , Harry insisted. He didn't bring up the fact that Louis, the other handsome deaf boy his age, didn't use a hearing aid and he managed just fine. _I don't think I need it anymore._

 _You should talk to your mum,_ Niall signed.

That was, by default, the end of that night's conversation.

For some reason, he found himself thinking about Louis when he was sliding into bed; not in a dirty way, he swore, just reflecting on what seemingly made the boy so intriguing. He thought about the way his eyes travelled over even the tiniest things in the room, how his eyes captured the entirety of his emotions openly while his face read nothing. What was he thinking? Harry didn't know what about, but he knew he was thinking. He knew that Louis wasn't someone who was going to waste his energy on communicating with people who didn't value the things he didn't have, like people who could hear. Louis cared about these things.

Louis, he told himself, was different.

And did it really matter that they'd only met for about five minutes?

Not in the slightest.

Before Harry fell asleep, he wondered what Louis' voice sounded like. 

 

•

 

It was the next Friday when the two saw each other again.

Harry still had his hearing aid. He was too anxious to question his mother about it, and he pretty much knew the answer to what his question would be: no.

Harry got to the waiting room at 12:15, checked himself in, and slipped quietly into the corridors that smelled of hand sanitizer and linen. He'd already memorized where Steve's office was (yes, he called him _Steve_ , they were practically homies) and he was just about to rap his knuckles on the door when it opened and. There was the person he maybe had been thinking about all week.

He was wearing a hoodie and black jeans and vans and he looked ordinary except for the fact that his eyes were sparkling just like their first exchange and they still had that same curious look.

 _Hi_.

It was Louis who seemed frozen when Harry should've been the one to panic. He put on the biggest smile he possibly could and subconsciously fiddled with the ends of his hair.

 _Hi_ , the other boy responded momentarily. He had a piece of chewing gum in his mouth. _Sorry. I should go._ He made to move out of the doorway and back down the hall, but Harry got some kind of burst of confidence and stepped directly into his path.

 _Wait_ , he said. Wait. What was he doing? Why did he stop the poor boy who was probably starving for lunch and just wanted to get the hell out of this hospital?

Louis looked up at him.

Was it too early in their relationship to offer to take him out for lunch?

He didn't really care.

 _I was wondering_ , Harry signed efficiently, _if you would like to stick around for a little while so that I could take you to lunch?_

Louis blinked.

 _I figured we would be seeing a lot of each other,_ Harry continued, _so maybe we could get to know each other a little?_

Louis lifted his hands and Harry leaned on his toes in nervous anticipation.

_I already ate. Sorry._

That was that. How could he be so stupid? Why would...god, what was he thinking. Why would this boy want to attend a lunch out with a total stranger? Plain and simple: he wouldn't. Harry nodded after a second, a new kind of apologetic smile guiltily turning up the corners of his mouth.

_That's fine. Sorry._

Louis shook his head, a look mirroring his own minus the smile washing over his sparkly eyes. He'd never seen him smile. That would have to change.

 _It's ok._ He hesitated, glancing around as if he was afraid someone was watching, but Harry could see the exact moment he decided against doing the thing he had in mind. _I should go._

Harry nodded. Smiled. The corner of Louis' mouth twitched up. It wasn't a smile, but it was something.

 _Bye,_ Louis motioned, and Harry mimicked him and suddenly he was sitting in Steve the pediatrician's office.

There was a brief how are you, before he seemed to get directly to the point of the session; he twirled around in his chair and rubbed his hands together.

 _So, Harry._ Harry had given Steve his name sign upon meeting. It wasn't like Harry was a grueling name to spell out, but he quite liked the doctor and at least hoped that they would still stay in touch even when he graduated onto a non-pediatrician. His name sign was something he gave out as a kind of symbol of trust. I'm putting my life in your hands. _Call me_ dimples--supposedly his most defining characteristic-- _except instead of one finger it's two, so it looks like an H._

It worked. Steve had laughed. Possible friend count since moving to Boston: two.

 _You told me you got your hearing aid when you were thirteen,_ Steve signed. Harry nodded. _Would you say it makes a significant difference still, or would you say it doesn't do much?_

Oh thank god, this was the exact question he'd been too scared to bring up all week.

 _It doesn't really help anymore_ , Harry replied. _It helped when I still had hearing, and now it's just a kind of safety blanket. I don't need it._

Steve nodded. _Alright. We'll arrange to take it off sometime this week and we'll email or call your mom about it. Good?_

Harry grinned, and that was answer enough. 

 

•

 

Louis saw his sister's boyfriend again at dinner on Sunday night.

He was just...sitting there. At the table. As if he was part of... _the family._ What a little piece of shit.

The dinner table was a little more quiet than usual, a little more muted, as if they knew Louis was maybe seconds away from having some kind of meltdown. He was slightly offended they thought so little of him. But while his mother attempted to serve people heaps of mashed potatoes and thin slices of beef pot roast. Spoonfuls of steamed baby carrots. Thick gravy. A meal tainted by the boy who was practically trembling under Louis' stony glare, and Louis' folded hands beside his small whiteboard.

And to think he had been looking forward to tonight.

He only offered his mum a nod in acknowledgement as others visibly thanked her for cooking. Lottie must've explained that her brother was deaf to her boyfriend, because he didn't seem confused when Louis picked up his whiteboard and displayed it to the twins, the words 'how was school' printed neatly in his fine handwriting.

Both girls grinned showing identical missing front teeth. Their big brother actually cared about them! Phoebe began signing first, her hands and fingers moving clumsily around her body in exaggerated motions (she'd never forgotten the time her mother explained to her that they had to be very clear with their movements so Louis understood) and went on a five minute explanation of what had gone down; one of the girls at lunch had gotten a boyfriend and she _knew_ one of the other girls liked him but she became his girlfriend _anyway_ (how scandalous) but they broke up in Maths via note passing and so everything turned out okay.

The reason for the whiteboard was solely to make things easier for the girls, but they didn't seem to mind the signing. In fact, Tommy was watching her quite curiously as she motioned extravagantly to her brother.

He watched his sister and her boyfriend utter a few words to each other in his peripheral. Then, his mother tapped his hand gently to get his attention.

He turned and she was tilting her head over at where Lottie was waiting patiently for him to notice. Then she lifted both her hands.

_Say something to him, please._

He had to resist rolling his eyes. He had absolutely nothing to say to this kid. He was incredibly irritated nobody had bothered to tell him that they would be hosting a guest.

 _No thank you,_ Louis gestured vaguely.

 _Please_ , Lottie said.

Louis shook his head.

 _Please,_ she repeated.

 _Fuck you,_ Louis replied.

_Please._

He huffed, lifting up his whiteboard with jerky, obnoxious movements and writing in messier handwriting, _how are you?_

Tommy's face lit up, but fell into one of confusion when he wasn't sure how to communicate back. Lottie said something to him. He said something back. She signed:

_He's good, thank you so much. Lottie's told me a lot about you._

Louis was the man of the house, pretty much. There was Dan, who was currently sitting in his seat chewing and seemingly oblivious to the happenings around him (he started learning ASL when he discovered his girlfriend's oldest child was totally deaf but he wasn't fluent by any means) but Louis had been the man of the house for _years._ And so while Tommy was, of course, perfectly polite to the Dan he was even more polite around Louis.

Just how it should've been.

Louis held the cap of the marker in his mouth.

_All good things I hope?_

Tommy laughed. He couldn't hear it, obviously, but he could see it. His laugh was big. His laugh was an _actual laugh,_ not some fake-ass chuckle he saw all too often. And this time, instead of trying to get Lottie to translate for him, he looked directly at Louis and smiled and nodded. Not in some condescending way.

Maybe, just maybe, Louis would let his sister keep this boy. 

 

•

 

The next Friday, when Louis walked into the waiting room, Harry was sitting there.

He was on his phone, scrolling through something, but somehow his deaf instincts kicked in and he looked up almost the instant Louis strolled over to the check-in desk. His hearing aid was gone. Louis noticed that right away. It was a rainy day; warm enough so that it didn't have to snow but cold enough there had to be _something_ , and in this case it was an icy sleet that caught in his eyelashes and hair. He quite liked it when that happened. He didn't mind the cold as much.

He ran over a few options in his head after the secretary nodded at him. He could ignore the boy. Or he could strike up a conversation. Or he could...well, that was about it for his options.

Despite the voice in the back of his head that told him to leave it, he picked the latter.

Harry smiled at him, as if the boy already knew what he was going to do before he lifted his right hand.

_Hi._

_Hi,_ Harry replied, clicking off his phone and straightening up in his seat as if this was some kind of weird interview. _How are you?_

Louis shrugged. _Cold._

Harry grinned even wider, if that was possible. _Me too. I'm still getting used to this weather._

Louis nodded once, and their conversation was...well, it was over for a moment. Louis was early; it was ten past noon and his appointment was usually at half past, so he had time to wait, but Harry was _an hour_ early. What the hell was he doing here?

As if the other boy could read his mind, he continued: _my mum has to be with my sister at BU so she dropped me off early._ The sentence came with a sheepish grin. Harry always seemed to be smiling but he had so many different _types_ of smile it was impossible to not think about his smile.

He did the thing before he consciously made the decision to do the thing.

 _I..._ he hesitated, but only for a moment. _I have time. We can go to the food court if you want._

Oh god. His smile grew.

What the hell was he thinking?

But Harry, as it turned out, was not completely boring.

Over his grilled cheese sandwich and Louis' fruit salad, he launched himself into the story of how he moved here. His sister, apparently, was the main reason. She'd gotten into Boston University and she'd desperately wanted to go but she was too afraid to be so far from her family and from her brother, especially, if she wasn't there to help. So his mother had moved them across the ocean, much like Louis' own family except with less little girls, and now his sister was in her second year of university and enjoying it and Harry was taking a 'gap year'. When he'd signed 'gap year' he got this kind of grimace on his face, so Louis assumed that he wasn't taking a gap year, he was unable to attend a university of his choice because of his disability.

Louis was in a similar boat. He knew he wanted to be involved in tech; he'd been taking classes at MIT since he was fifteen, and he'd always wanted to pursue it somehow, in some way. He liked coding. He liked computers. And his mother had told him 'apply for MIT! You'd be amazing there!' and yet his crippling self-doubt and the pushback of his own deafness was what turned him away from chasing his dreams and what turned him towards TA-ing at a Lego robotics class for special-needs kids on Mondays. And that didn't even include teaching; that was just handing out papers and pencils and, well, Legos. And the pay was shit.

And that was part of what drew him to Harry, and that was part of what caught his attention so much he began to feel a spark of _more_ when they saw each other every Friday. That behind the smiles and the dimples and the childish eyes, there was a boy just like him; a boy who hated the way he was. A boy who wished things were different. A boy who wanted _more._

 

_•_

 

They shared their name signs with each other on April 20th.

Harry remembered, from their first encounter, Bear, but he'd never really understood it. He was quite determined to find out its meaning.

Because first they only saw each other on Fridays, but soon the Fridays turned into Sundays when they would walk down Memorial Drive together in the March morning dew while chewing on McDonald's french fries and not even attempting to communicate, just walking.

Then Fridays and Sundays turned into Thursdays as well, which was when they would actually communicate, and then Fridays, Sundays, and Thursdays turned into texting back and forth every night. And texting was nicer for Louis, for the both of them, because suddenly they weren't deaf teenagers anymore, they were just _teenagers._

So on Thursday the 20th, Harry signed _hi Bear_ with a huge smile on his face when Louis greeted him at the door. He was...confused. And then he found it quite hysterical, the sheepish and embarrassed look on Harry's face. And so that Thursday they spent more than an hour talking about their name signs; Louis' 'L' right over the heart, Harry's 'H' right over his dimple. They fit each other so remarkably well it was unbelievable.

That was the first time they revealed something so big to the other. It was a step.

When they texted, they would talk about things they weren't able to capture in sign language. The best books they'd ever read. Their favorite seasons, and why. Their first pets and how they'd felt when they died. And perhaps the thing that most intrigued Louis: their sexualities.

Louis was simple. Gay. He liked boys. That was it. Harry, on the other hand, was torn between bisexual and pansexual. He'd typed out one night that if he liked a trans person, he wouldn't want them to feel like he didn't consider them a valid gender because he wasn't bisexual. So if he liked a trans boy, he would say he was bisexual and into a boy. Not pansexual and into a trans person.

 ** _What about genderfluid and agender people? People who don't conform to the idea of gender?_** Louis had replied.

There was a long pause.

**_You're right. I guess I'm pansexual._ **

Another topic came up in early April; one that'd been brought up by Harry.

**_Lou, have_ ** **_u_ ** **_ever had sex with a boy?_ **

Louis' fingers had frozen against his screen. What was the purpose of this question? Was Harry having sex with a boy? Was he being safe? Did Harry like another boy? Did Harry _want_ to have sex with another boy? A shock pulsed through him. Did he not want to have sex with a boy but he was being made to do it anyway?

Louis had supposedly become rather protective of Harry over the course of three months.

He settled for a blatant **_why?_**

 ** _I was just wondering_** _,_ Harry typed. **_You don't have to tell me. It's ok._**

Louis had to breathe and gather his senses back together for a moment.

**_that's a tough question, H. I've done sexual things with other boys before but I've never... had sex with one, you know?_ **

Harry took another minute, and then said, **_ok._**

They'd gone to sleep then, but Louis never forgot this conversation. 

 

•

 

They shared their first kiss on April 27th.

The weather. It was the first beautiful day of the year. And so maybe it wasn't very warm but it was sunny and it smelled fresh and it was green and blue and yellow. The sun's rays bled into their skin and made them glow, made them feel a kind of happiness that could only come from the natural world.

They were lying next to each other. Harry'd stayed for dinner (Tommy hadn't been there, thank god, even though Louis didn't actually hate him anymore), and they were both full and soft and happy and Louis had, in his full and soft and happy state, invited Harry up to his room. He...didn't expect anything to happen. Harry was a friend. Harry was...his only friend. He would hate to ruin that, even if maybe a tiny part of him wanted more.

They didn't sign. They didn't move. They just laid there, calm and still, and everything seemed to float around the two of them, just silent. Silence, the thing that had brought the two of them together. Silence, the thing that had torn apart their lives while shaping them at the same time.

But they were friends. No more than friends.

Harry sat up after a moment, turning so he was facing Louis and perching his head on his hand. They looked at each other for a moment.

 _Do you ever wish things were different?_ Harry signed.

Louis paused. Things. Things like their disabilities? Or things like...their relationship?

Louis nodded.

Harry leaned in.

His lips. They were so soft. He tasted sweet. He smelled like flowers. He was...perfect.

His tongue was smooth and turned Louis' entire body to jelly. Louis' arm snaked around the back of his neck. Harry let out a breath of air into his mouth.

Louis was the one who flipped them over. Their legs tangled and their arms tangled and their fingers tangled and their hair tangled and soon they were both aching for _more._

Louis slipped a hand in the other boy's boxers. And he had never been so conflicted when it came to his deafness; he wanted to _hear_ this boy, but he looked so _beautiful_ he didn't want anything to distract from his pink cheeks and eyes closed in ecstasy and teeth clamped on his lower lip. He was _so beautiful._

 _Ok?_ Louis' eyes asked the question his lips couldn't.

Harry smiled, nodded, and pulled him in so his face was buried in his neck.

It was minutes before the boy was shivering underneath him and spilling into his fist.

Harry seemed to turn to liquid afterwards. His eyelids fluttered shut and a warm, contented and lazy grin fell over his face. His chest moved up and down softly and Louis wanted to keep him here forever. The boy pressed a kiss to where his jaw met his ear, moved his lips until their mouths were aligned and keeping them there. Louis felt Harry's fingers wrap around him in return and when he came he let out a burst of air against the other boy's skin, who then kissed him again and again and again until it was one in the morning and they fell asleep, legs still tangled and lips still touching.

Louis could get used to this. 

 

• 

 

Well. Maybe Louis was being a little overdramatic.

He had one other friend besides Harry. He wasn't completely alone.

Liam was a boy he'd met at the hospital when he'd had his first seizure. The seizure had scared his family and himself, something that they'd been warned would be a regular occurrence at his birth but hadn't happened until ten years later. (Louis was repeatedly defying the doctors. He figured that said something about how stubborn he was). He hadn't had another one since he was fourteen. But Liam was the kind of kid teachers and parents called a 'problem child'. He was deemed mentally unstable by his doctors; epilepsy, ADHD, anxiety, insomnia, bipolar disorder. But Louis knew Liam far better than his doctors or his parents did (his parents were shit. They put him through therapy and medication that gave him hallucinations and made him go days without sleep when they didn't seem to realize all he really needed was their support).

For example; Louis knew that Liam would only confess how he was actually feeling if he was off medication and with someone he trusted. Louis knew that Liam would only eat if he knew there was a bathroom nearby where he could be sick if he needed to, because food didn't mix well with antidepressants and anticonvulsants. Louis knew that Liam would write down everything he was feeling in his leather bound journal he'd gotten for his twelfth birthday and if he wanted someone to read it, he would leave it in a place it'd be easily found. Louis knew that Liam spoke four languages besides English fluently, that Liam could solve even the most complex mathematical equations.

Louis knew that Liam hated mint gum, but loved fruit gum. And Louis knew that Liam was aromantic asexual.

 _I just don't like people that much,_ Liam had written in his journal and displayed to his friend. _I only like the people who know what it feels like to not like people. And even then, not really._

And even though it seemed like nobody understood Liam at all, Louis did.

 _They think medication will make everything better,_ he continued, now writing about his parents. _It doesn't fix anything. It makes things blurry._ He held a hand up in front of his own face and waved it around. _It makes things feel dreamy but not in a good way. There are frogs crawling up the walls. There are holes in the floor. There are birds pecking on the windows._

 _Is it scary?_ Louis wrote.

Liam smiled, a smile that was full of sunshine and a smile that he only used around Louis.

_No._

The day after Louis and Harry had kissed, he went over to Liam's house. His father answered the door, looking exhausted and grumpy and annoyed that he would have to communicate with a deaf person. He simply jerked his thumb up towards his son's room and turned away.

Liam was sitting on his bed, fiddling with some metal parts that looked like they belonged to a bicycle but were...no longer attached to a bicycle. He looked up when Louis walked in, smiled that sunshiny smile, waved, and then went right back to fiddling with his metal parts.

Louis walked over to his desk, picked up a notepad decorated with some intelligible script, flipped to a fresh page, picked up a pen, and wrote _what are you making?_

Liam looked up when Louis tapped his shoulder. He smiled again at the words written, then took back the notepad and wrote, _you look in love._

Louis blinked.

In love? He wasn't in love. He...liked someone. A lot. But he wasn't in love. No way. What? How did he know? Not that he was in love, but...that he liked someone a lot?

The other boy just went right back to tinkering with his metal.

Louis sat down on the bed and wrote, _I'm not in love. What are you talking about?_

When Liam saw what he'd written, he just smiled and shook his head.

He figured he was just having one of his Liam moments.

Because there was no way in hell he was in love. 

 

•

 

Every night from then on, Harry went to Louis' house.

They usually held hands while lying in bed and told themselves that they weren't going to end up making out or getting each other off and yet every night they ended up making out _and_ getting each other off.

Neither of them were complaining.

It was a week later when he finally said something.

 ** _What are we?_** he typed out into the notes app on his phone and showed the boy lying next to him.

Louis paused. He spent several seconds looking at the words, then took the phone ever so softly and typed out:

**_what do u want us to be?_ **

Harry kissed him so hard he saw stars. 

 

•

 

Steve told Louis, the week after, that it was time for him to move on.

It was a shock, to say the least. The doctor he'd been with for more than half his life was done with him. He felt offended, he felt ashamed for some reason, he felt fear for the process of finding a new doctor, a new doctor who understood him and actually cared about him and didn't just think about him as another _project._ He was more than a _project_ to Steve. God, he wasn't ready for this. He was at a stage in his life when he needed someone to vent to who would listen. He didn't want some old doctor who hated teenagers and spoke about millennials and young people as if they were some kind of inferior species.

He was...upset. He sat in the waiting room with his arms crossed and he didn't meet his pediatrician's eyes because if he did he was certain he was going to burst into tears.

Steve gave him a few points before his mother signed the paperwork saying he was no longer a child.

_Let people know how you're feeling, okay?_

Louis sniffed.

_If you ever feel really bad, tell someone, okay?_

Louis rubbed his nose.

_If you ever need to talk, I'll always be here, okay?_

Maybe, just maybe, a single tear fell from Louis' right eye.

_I'm really proud of you, Louis._

And maybe, just maybe, he was actually, legitimately crying now.

He hugged Steve. Of course he did. What else was he to do?

It just so happened that, conveniently, Harry stepped into the waiting room when Louis reached the peak of his meltdown.

It shouldn't have been a meltdown. It shouldn't have been such a big deal. He could still see Steve regularly if he wanted to, just not as his patient. But for some reason, once he started crying, he wasn't able to stop, and god, it felt so good to cry when he'd been keeping so many worries and so many feelings inside of him for so long.

He'd always been told he had problems, problems that went further than just being deaf. Problems like depression. Problems maybe a little bit like Liam's. Problems that had happened when his brain fried itself the day of his birth. He was problematic, after all. That was just how his life was. But he didn't think he was depressed, not like everyone said he was.

He realized now, saying goodbye to Steve in a calm office away from the toddler bustle, while his shoulders racked with sobs and Harry rubbed his back softly and his mother watched on with her usual motherly concern, that he wasn't depressed.

He was lonely.

He'd been alone his whole life. Not that nobody tried to get him to let them into his life, let them know how he was feeling; just that nobody _understood._ Nobody knew what it felt like to live a life without sound, without the thing so essential to a happy life that everyone took for granted. He didn't know what music was like. He didn't know the sound of his mother's voice.

Harry, on some level, did.

But Harry, on the other hand, was the boy who'd had his life wrenched away from him so young. Harry was the boy who knew what sound felt like but lost it. Harry knew what loss felt like. The empty hole in his being.

Harry understood.

When he calmed down, he knew his face was red and blotchy and his eyes must've been puffy and he must've looked a mess, but Harry squeezed his hand and asked Steve if they could skip their appointment for today so that the two of them could go to...well, he didn't know. Louis' mum went home and Harry held his hand the whole time they were on the T, the whole time they walked through the MIT campus, the whole time they weaved together through the sidewalks of Tech Square, the whole elevator ride to the top of that one building Louis always walked past but had never dared to go inside, the moment the lift dinged and they stepped out onto what might have been the most beautiful thing Louis had seen in his entire life.

The roof garden was blooming with life.

There was really no way he could've described it. Trees lining brick paths, flower petals at their feet, benches shaded by ivy and overgrown bushes.

They didn't even attempt to communicate. Louis let Harry take the lead, and the boy pulled him through the winding paths until they reached what was possible the most secluded area of the roof; hidden and tucked away in a corner was a single bench, a bench in front of the concrete barrier that revealed the entire city to the both of them.

They curled up on it together, Louis, who had recovered from his meltdown, nestled into the taller boy's hoodie, Harry touching his lips to the top of his head.

He pulled out his phone.

**_r u ok?_ **

Louis' smile was teary but it was real.

He nodded.

 ** _Steve may seem like he's the only one who understands u_** **,** Harry typed, **_but I do._**

Louis took the phone.

**_I know._ **

**_ur not alone ok?_ **

Harry's movements were small and as Louis read the words he had typed he intertwined their fingers.

**_I know._ **

The sun warmed their skin, dried any and all remnants of Louis' tears, made Harry's curly hair _glow._ The sounds of the city below seemed to disappear; it was just them, overlooking everything, the only two people in the world who understood each other.

 ** _u don't have to love me yet,_** Harry typed. **_but_**

There was a pause.

**_I love you._ **

Louis took the phone.

 ** _Harry Styles,_** he typed back, **_you are the sweetest creature I have ever encountered in my whole life_**

Harry smiled so big his face hurt.

**_and I love you with my whole heart even though we are still young and we have only known each other for almost four months. you are a stubborn and beautiful thing and I know you have a lot of fight in you but I don't care because I will run through a million more gardens with you. I don't know where I'm going at all but I know I belong with you. Harry Styles, you are my home. and I love you._ ** **_and I'm pretty sure I will love you forever._ ** **_even if I never, ever hear the sound of your voice._ **

Harry was crying.

They were both crying.

Then, Harry pulled him up and they were off again.

The garden was empty. It was just them. Two deaf teenagers running through a bloody roof garden. The wind was whipping at their hair and they didn't really have a destination, they just knew they were running, and as they ran it was like all their bothers and worries just blew away as if they never existed.

They kissed underneath a birch tree.

Harry pressed an 'L' to his left shoulder.

 _Louis,_ he signed, _when I moved here, I had no friends. I knew one person outside of my family. I missed my friends. I hated this place. And then I met you. You knew. You knew that things like sound didn't matter. You know. All that matters is living a full life, and you have done so. And you are helping me do so. Louis Tomlinson--_ he spelled out every letter-- _you bring me home._

 _Harry Styles--_ Louis spelled out every letter-- _you ridiculous creature._

_You have already brought me home._

 

 

**the end.**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! basically i originally intended this as a full length book but i decided to make it more of a one shot because i thought it fit better. i made myself emotional in the end tbh. if you did like it i would love some kudos or just a comment! any feedback is super appreciated :) you can find me on tumblr @harrytum. thank you!!
> 
> UPDATE: there is now a playlist for this story! find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/reveries-passions/playlist/1Iqdx5r5yoNLJTviDw32Sn) :)
> 
> -bella


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